The Heart and the Will
by Abstracted
Summary: The Wolfram and Hart conflict threw the world into an unprecedented apocalyptic war with Evil. Whistler convinces Buffy to make a deal with an ancient Goddess to clean up the mess. But deals and magic always have a price, and things aren't so simple for a Slayer who wants to more than just stop apocalypses. SPUFFY Time travel from S2.
1. One

The Heart and the Will

**ONE **

**Note: **Just needed something new to write. I am working on my other fics, I promise. Just a little stuck on them.

* * *

"_I have no interest in heroes, Slayer. But warriors are a different story. Prove to me that you are a warrior, and then we can talk."_

* * *

Buffy's eyes flew open, hazel-green brimming with terror. She was trembling terribly and her breath was fast and labored, as if she just finished a brisk jog. But it wasn't just fear she felt, but a hot, gut wrenching anger that was directed at everything around her._ How dare they?_

She blinked, and realized that it was all a dream. Nightmare. But it felt so real.

Buffy cried as the images of the nightmare slowly slipped away. They were horrible, she was sure, full of pain and hurt, but for some reason she desperately clung onto them, as if she felt that she was also losing something incredibly important with them. A few moments later, only the feelings of loss, anger and pain lingered. Pieces remained, but the story was lost to her.

Her throat was parched. Deciding that her thirst was the pressing issue, Buffy scrambled out of bed and lightly treaded downstairs, trying not to wake up her mother. An unexpected pang of sadness hit her at the thought of her mother, but she quickly shoved the emotion away. It was the nightmare affecting her again.

When she arrived in the kitchen, she quickly downed a cup of water, nearly choking as she did. It felt like decades since she had water.

With a satisfied sigh, Buffy leaned onto the breakfast nook and focused on the jumble of feelings inside her—and that dream. Boy, that was some nightmare. _Slayer dream, perhaps?_ She shook her head. No, she usually she remembered Slayer dreams with alarming clarity. This dream slipped away the moment she woke up, only leaving her with that a gutting feeling of hopelessness. She shivered as those emotions resurfaced again.

Buffy bit her lips, and shook her head, hoping that the action would at least help her with the swirling mess of emotions in her head. An odd curiosity seized her suddenly, and she glanced at the calendar on the wall.

September 1997.

She was surprised, seeing the date, but frowned at her own reaction. Of course it's September 1997! _Duh!_ She had a Parent-Teacher Meeting to hide from, which, unfortunately, was coming up in three weeks. _Aw damn, still haven't told mom about it._

Frankly, it didn't feel like such a big deal anymore. She found it pathetic that she was panicking over it all week long, and wanted to laugh at how insignificant her fear was. She couldn't believe she was actually frightened by what Snyder might tell her mother. _Hah, please. In comparison to facing down a Hell God—_

Buffy froze. _Wait._

_Hell God? Where did that thought come from?_

Buffy frowned, puzzled. That was weird. Her thoughts wondered back to her nightmare that she could barely remember. It had left her feeling bewilderingly miserable. Sighing, she closed the kitchen lights, headed up back upstairs and tried to salvage a few more hours of sleep. She would worry about it tomorrow in the light of day with the help of her Scoobies.

* * *

"Buffy, are you sure you can't remember anything concrete? No words, or-or phrases or even colors?" Giles's British lilt made Buffy impatient and angry. She couldn't figure out why. She liked his accent, even though she was always making fun of his British-ness. It was like home to her, a safe place where she could relax and trust, where she would never be abandoned. But now, her feeling of fondness was tinged with bitterness.

"Uh, not really. I mean, I haven't tried cause…" Buffy trailed off. _…whenever I do it hurt so much…_

She cleared her throat. "Here, I'll try again." She shut her eyes tight, trying to concentrate—those emotions welled up in her again, so familiar, yet so alien and so very painful. She was tempted to open her eyes, willing them to go away, but hung on for the sake of her audience.

A male voice floated into her mind, the British accent achingly familiar. _"It is nothing compared to the idea that another girl could mean anything to me. This chip, they did to me. I couldn't help it. But the soul, I got on my own…for you."_

It wasn't like Giles's accent—it was rougher and more sensual, less stuffy and more alluring. But it was also full of love, so desperate and intense, and yet so pure. _A soul? For her? _It brought tears to her eyes. Startled by the deluge of emotion, Buffy snapped her eyes opened. Giles, Willow and Xander was looking at her with concerned frowns.

"Buffy are you ok?" Willow asked quietly.

Buffy quickly dabbed the tears from her eyes and stifled a teary sniff.

"Um…yeah. Just…I can't…remember much…I…" She swallowed thickly. For some reason, she didn't want them to know. Those words felt so private, so intimate and so hers. And his, whoever he was. Her stomach lurched nervously—the voice definitely did not sound like Angel's. "At least, I'm not sure what it is I'm remembering."

Giles frowned. "If this is too difficult, Buffy, we can do this slowly. And it might turn out that the dreams are just that…dreams. It might not mean anything at all."

"He's right, Buffy," Willow put in sympathetically. Buffy stared at Willow, feeling a hostile irritation rising her chest, followed by a deep sense of loss. She quickly pushed those thoughts away. _Where did that come from? _"Could be all the stress you know. We've the Parents-Teacher night coming up, and that French test."

Buffy winced at the reminder. "Oh no…that stupid test." She let out a sigh and looked at Giles. "Well, do you anything about a chip?"

Giles looked at her blankly. "A chip?"

"Yeah. I mean, what I remembered just now was someone saying 'The Chip, they did to me'."

Giles frowned and repeated the words to himself. It sounded ugly and wrong when he said it. Buffy couldn't help but grimace, which did not go unnoticed.

"You okay there Buff?" asked Xander.

"N-nothing. Um. Yeah." She refocused her attention on Giles. "Anything?"

"W-well, it could meaning anything," Giles muttered, "Could mean a deep fried piece of potatoes—"

"Aren't those called fries?" Xander offered, confused.

Giles ignored him. "Or a poker chip…or-or…"

"Computer chip?" Willow suggested brightly, "Though I don't know how someone can 'do' a computer chip to a person."

"Or, it could be test-stressed fuel nightmare," Xander reminded them graciously, "Which, Buffy, I'm right there with you. Last night, I had a nightmare that all of the women in Sunnydale were trying to kill me."

Giles gave Xander a tired look, and sighed. He turned to Buffy, "Well, to be sure, I'll trying to r—"

The school bell rang, signaling the three high schoolers to their next period.

"Research, right," Buffy finished for him playfully, "Understood. See you later Giles."

"Hey, guess what?" Xander said to the two girls as they left the library, "We have a new girl transferring. Our year. News is that she's very easy on the eyes, and yours truly will be there to…"

Willow and Buffy exchanged an affectionate but exasperated looks as they let Xander babble on about a doomed plan to woo the unfortunate new girl.

* * *

Whistler was not happy. He paced the length of a spacious, color coordinated apartment. The modern décor of its living room obviously had been meticulously put together by a decorator of sorts, evidenced by the orange-hued pillows on a brick colored couch, tastefully chosen home appliances and modern art pieces.

The sound of dishes in the kitchen caught his attention, and he waited anxiously as a dark haired teenage girl strolled into living room, a red backpack slung over one shoulder and a peeled banana in one hand.

Whistler could not help but gape at the vision of an all-powerful primordial Goddess munching on something as mundane as a banana.

"Ah Whistler," the girl-Goddess greeted brightly, "What brings you here to my humble, new apartment?"

Whistler glanced around and muttered, "Never thought orange was your thing."

"Ah. Well, I needed something rejuvenating and fun. And bright," she explained happily, "I had Iris do it for me."

Whistler gave her an odd look. "Iris, Goddess of the Rainbows?"

The girl scoffed and rolled her eyes at the suggestion. "No silly, Iris Hampton, an interior decorator from Los Angeles. She's half Huek-Jon demon. She has great sense of color, and has a totally chic sense of design. She worked for Vogue, you know, back in her heydays. And I wouldn't let that other Iris within 100 feet from me. Now, Whistler, what are you here for? 'Cause I gotta tell ya, I've got places to be."

Whistler momentarily marveled at how quickly she had picked up not only English and the California accent, but the teenage-speak as well. If he didn't know any better, he would've though she was an immaculate vision of a spoiled Southern California female teenager. "Yes, that's what _I_ want to know—what in God's name are you doing here, like this? And what is up with this apartment, and _that_!" He motioned to her, looking at her up and down in frustration.

The girl lifted her brows at him, her gaze patient but condescending. "I'm personally keeping an eye on the _project_," she replied after a while, "To see that it goes as it should."

"But you've already messed up!" Whistler snapped, "You were supposed to handle Angel—make sure the Acathla event never happens!"

"But it hasn't yet."

"But it's started. The Slayer and Angel are already making googly-eyes at each other! You know where that leads."

"Ah, well." The teenager let out a breath. "Yeah. Wasn't my priority. And that, Whistler, was some poorly written smut. I felt no passion, no intensity, really, take a writing class or something. Better yet, get laid—best writing comes from real experiences, they say. Though you might want to think of getting a new outfit before you start hitting the bars." She grinned brightly at him. "Besides, I'm only here to prevent the unpreventable, and Acathla wasn't unpreventable, so it's not really in my list of things to worry about. The Slayer will take care of it. I mean, from what I gathered, she did it marvelously the last time."

"Katonea," Whistler growled, pinching the bridge of his nose, "You don't understand. One thing leads to another. There are things that need to be nipped in the bud-"

"Well that's wasteful," Katonea muttered irritably, "I prefer careful pruning. Don't worry Whistler-"

"If that were the case Katonea, then you didn't need come back this far. You could have just come back when Glory was here and let the Slayer take care of it with her foreknowledge. Or you could have prevented the Red Witch from performing the Resurrection! But here, now?! 1997? What is here that you want?!"

Katonea's blue-gray eyes flashed dangerously at Whistler, revealing a bit of the primordial Goddess she was supposed to be. Whistler hesitated at the warning, and bowed his head slightly in understanding and deference.

A few moments passed before she spoke: "You understand nothing, Whistler. Really, I can't do some of that, and for a lot of reasons. The most important is this, so listen well: my deal was _not_ with Angel. Or with you, Whistler. Or with the Powers or the Evil Ones. Or the Wolf, Ram and Heart. But with the Slayer. _Buffy_, the Slayer, not those other snotty little slayer brats. And I look out for her. Not this world, or your beloved souled vampire, but for her. And, of course, myself. And believe me, _this time, Sunnydale 1997,_ is where _and _when I want to start. I won't let her potential go to waste."

She crossed her arms and let out an exasperated huff.

"Now excuse me, I have a high school to attend and I do not want to be tardy on my first day. Though…you know, being fashionably late might be cool. Depends on what image I'm going for." She grinned at herself. "Well, I supposed to be teenager aren't I? Nothing wrong with identity issues."

She brushed past him and opened the door. Before leaving, she turned to Whistler and said, her voice sweet, "Oh, and you have can Faith—maybe I can help you out with her, make sure she doesn't get herself entangled with that Demon-wannabe. She's an interesting Slayer."

"What about Kendra? She dies within the year—can you prevent that from happening?"

"Kendra? The little Jamaican syncophant? Nah. The Powers can have her. Perfect little Chosen slave she is. Might be better for her to be out of the fray early on. But then again, it all depends on Buffy's choice. Not mine. Or yours. Remember that." She winked at him, and left the apartment.

Whistler growled, frustrated. This was suspicious. Katonea was way too interested in Buffy. Something was off when the universe's most anti-social, misanthropic, and wayward Goddess stepped down from the gloom of her throne to go to _high school_ with a Vampire Slayer.

_May the Powers have mercy on her._ High School was a hell that even _She_ would have problems dealing with.

And damn it, he thought it was going to be bad dealing with a high school age Slayer again, but now he also had a Goddess who turned herself into a teenager, hormones and all. He wasn't sure he could handle this for three years.

* * *

"Class, settle. And Jonathan, don't touch that. Sit already. Now, I'm going to introduce to you a new student. Where are you—?"

A pretty, dark haired girl sitting in the back row raised her hand.

"Why don't you introduce yourself?"

She stood up, smiling around the class. "My name Kat. Kat O'Nea." She grinned even wider, seeming pleased with herself. "Great to meet you all. Hope we can get along." Her smile got brighter when her eyes fell on Buffy. "Hope we can be friends."

Buffy shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Something about the new girl's stare was unsettling, and her voice was familiar, though Buffy could not put a finger on it. Still, considering that she was feeling hostile even to her best friend and Giles, she figured that she was just imagining things.

_Prove to me that you are a warrior._

Buffy forced a smile in return.

* * *

Note: I do like feedback! It makes me happy, and making people happy is good.


	2. Two

**The Heart and the Will**

**Note: Thanks for the reviews guys! Here is the second chapter!**

* * *

**Two**

The uneasiness caused by her dreams and the new girl in her class passed as American History started rolling, faithfully lulling Buffy into a trance. Her mind kept flitting back to her unfathomable dream, where strange and familiar words and voices swirled around in panic and confusion. Something sat the pit of her stomach, something she knew was important but couldn't grasp. The voice she heard in her head earlier in the library gave her the distinct feeling of bittersweet affection.

_A soul._ Whoever speaking to her must have been a vampire, but it wasn't Angel. Was there another vampire out there with a soul—one who got it for _someone_? No, _for her_; though that was quite impossible. She couldn't think of any vampires she knew beside Angel who would do anything like that. Did vampires ever try to retrieve their own souls? Giles must know something about it.

The hour passed uneventfully, though she missed an entire blurb about the Reconstruction that she would have to bother Willow about. The bell rang, and the class clambered out of the room for lunch hour. Buffy and Willow lingered outside the classroom for Xander, who, surprisingly, appeared with the new girl by his side. Buffy and Willow gave each other amused looks.

"Girls!" Xander greeted them, his chest puffed out proudly by the fact that he actually got the new girl to come with him, "I want you to meet Kat O'Nea."

Buffy smiled, "We know Xander. We're in the same class."

"Of course," Xander continued, undeterred, "Kat, this is Buffy—and Willow."

Kat O'Nea, for her part, sustained a patient, pleasant smile on her face. Buffy's mind flickered back to the feeling of uneasiness she experienced when the other girl had looked at her in class. The feeling arose again, but it was also accompanied by an impression of familiarity. Like she had seen the girl somewhere before.

"Nice to meet you," said Kat, her smile turning friendlier, "Xander has been very nice to me. I feel welcomed."

"Oh good," agreed Willow, nodding her head, "Xander is good at that."

Xander grinned at them, "So, Buff, Will, I asked Kat if she wants to join us for lunch you know. Get to know that gang and all. Well, lunch gang."

"Oh of course," Buffy exclaimed, smiling a little too widely, "Yeah. Um, Kat, this might sound weird, but I feel like I've seen you before somewhere. Have I?"

"I can't say," Kat replied, "Am I familiar?"

"A little, but it's probably just me. Um, look, Will, Xander—I gotta go talk to Giles a bit more. I'll meet you later?"

Willow frowned, worried, "Problem?"

"Nothing big, you know. Just, stuff we talked about."

"Oh, okay. We'll see you later then?"

"Sure thing. See ya Xander, and Kat—nice to meet you."

The choruses of goodbye sent Buffy on her way back to the library, where Giles was still flipping through musty old books with a jelly donut in one hand.

"Giles. What's up? Find anything?"

Giles looked up, and put down his book and donut. "Unfortunately, nothing. To be frank, I must say your dream might just be a dream, albeit a traumatic nightmare. It doesn't seem like it's a Slayer dream. And since you can't seem to give me anything concrete, I have nothing to go on."

Buffy leaned on the table, scrunching her nose in disappointment. "But, what about the 'Chip'?"

"That's just as perplexing, Buffy. I can't find anything on just 'chip'."

She sighed, and slumped into a chair opposite of him. "I know, Giles. I mean, I know it might just be a bad dream—I did have anchovy and pineapple pizza last night and some peanut butter and jelly sandwiches right after. But, this feeling that I'm getting from the dreams, Giles, it's awful. Like, if I dwell on it, I feel like I'll never be happy again." _And I feel tired…and older. And so confused sometimes. _

"Do you think that uh, the dreams have a demonic or magical source?"

"I dunno. I mean, if it does, does it mean that some evil out there just want to make me feel sad? 'Cause that's being a jerk, not evil."

"Well—"

"And I feel like I've forgotten something really important."

Giles frowned. "Well, one theory that I have is that perhaps you did have a Slayer dream, but something might be preventing you from remembering it."

"Like a spell?"

"Yes—I could definitely trace you for any lingering spell."

"Okay. Worth a shot. And who knows, you might be right: could be a random nightmare."

"Perhaps. We'll figure it out Buffy."

She gave him a grateful smile. "Thanks Giles!" Buffy made to stand and leave, but sat back down again to as another thought struck her. "Oh, I was wondering, Giles…"

Giles looked up expectedly, the donut back in his hand once again and traveling to his mouth. "Yes?"

"Have there been any vampires with souls? I-I mean, besides Angel?"

Giles blinked. He hadn't been expecting that. "Um, I'm not sure if I ever had. Angel's case is more than rare you must understand."

"Of course I do! I mean, we can't all have souled vampires running around, right?"

"Right right, but I'll look into it for you if you'd like. Has-has it got something to do with your dream?"

"It might. I mean, I feel like it might, you know. Oh! And can Vampires choose to get their own souls back?"

Now that question seemed to take Giles by surprise. The man just put his donut down, knowing he wouldn't be able to take a bite with Buffy in her rapid 20-questions mood. The dream was bothering her more than he thought.

"Well," he began uncertainly, cocking his head in thought, "I suppose it's not a matter of _can—_there are a lot of ways one can call upon your soul from the ether, but it require terrible magicks and trials of the most frightening kind. The problem is mostly, well, _will. _The demon in the vampire would be practically asking for torture or suicide if it seeks out a soul, Buffy. It is nearly impossible for a creature without conscious to willingly want one. I imagine it takes an incredible amount of resolve and circumstances for something like that to happen."

Buffy frowned. "But, it's improbable, not impossible."

"Yes."

This new bit of information seemed to brighten Buffy a bit. "Then, is it probable for a vampire to go seek out a soul because he fell in love with a human? Is there any record of that?"

Giles frowned visibly at his Slayer, wondering where all this was coming from. "More impossible than probably, Buffy. Vampires can't love, or at least feel true love. They might feel sexual attraction and seek companionship, mostly towards each other, but any true feeling towards a human being is impossible."

Buffy nodded thoughtfully, at first accepting Giles's explanation. However, the fact that vampires can't love struck her in a wrong way, as if she knew personally to doubt that dogma. She looked at her Watcher critically. "About that loving thing…are you sure that vampires can't?"

Giles looked at her oddly. "I'm quite sure, Buffy. If you're not convinced, perhaps you can ask Angel. He might be able to…um…answer these questions better than I would be able to."

Buffy smiled at the suggestion. She was always up for a reason to see her vampire honey. "Ooh, good idea, I will. Anyways, I'm gonna go stuff some food down my throat before lunch period ends. Thanks, Giles. Bye."

Giles nodded, happily, and waved his Slayer goodbye. When she left, he looked down lovingly at his jelly donut. "Finally it's just you and me."

* * *

"So, Bronze? Me, Willow and you?"

Buffy snapped out of her daze, and stared at Xander blankly. "Uh, what?"

Xander frowned. "You okay, Buffy? You've been scary with all the zoning out lately."

"Oh, sorry Xander," Buffy sighed, "My mind's all mixy and confused and sleepy, cause of the nightmares. But uh, what were you saying?" She looked around the lunch table, surprising to the new girl Kat sitting between Willow and Xander. She was mildly amazed that Kat was still with them; she had thought Cordelia would have swept in and taken the girl under her wings like she had tried to with Buffy—cause those boots Kat was wearing were something seriously awesome. She supposed Kat wasn't the crony type.

"Bronze tonight," said Willow, "We thought we could show Kat the coolest place in Sunnydale!"

"Well, not that there's much competition," Xander put in earnestly, "But, they do serve some mean buffalo chicken wings."

Buffy smiled fondly at the mention of the wings. "And onion blossoms," she added.

"Ooh yes," Willow agreed, "Those things are great."

"Wow, chicken wings and onion blossoms," Kat said, "I'm sold. Get me initiated into Sunnydale's cult of cool."

Willow smiled happily. "Hah, hear that, we're the cult of cool."

"Uh, as if. If any of you are a member the cult of cool, then I'm the Queen of England."

The vituperative, valley girl voice belonged to their beloved Frenemy Cordelia Chase, who had just approached their table, hands on hips. She was dressed in a tight black and pink dress and glaring down at them condescendingly. She addressed Kat, "If you're done playing nice with these losers, then you can join me and the girls before your status becomes permanently irreparable."

"Oh careful Cordy," sniped Xander, "Using five syllable words might be more than you can handle."

Cordelia rolled her eyes.

Kat, on the other hand, was looking at Cordelia curiously. "_You're_ Cordelia Chase?"

"Yeah, I am. And, Kat, we're over there at the center of the room." She smiled, whipped around and left the gang staring after her incredulously. Kat, much to Xander's relief and Willow's pleasure, made no move to follow Cordelia, or look like she wanted to. She merely stared after the other girl like she couldn't quite figure out something.

"You just met Queen C," sighed Willow, shaking her head.

Kat looked at Willow. "She's not your friend?"

Willow eyed Kat in surprised. "Um, no, if that little exchange was anything to go by."

Kat nodded in understanding. "Oh. Okay."

Buffy giggled. "Careful around her, unless you wanna get sucked into her little gang of sycophants—unless, of course you want to be—not sycophant, but her friend. I mean—"

"Don't worry Buffy," Kat said, smiling, "Not interested."

"That's good to hear," Xander sighed, "Cause let me tell you, Cordy is bad news."

* * *

Bronze night didn't start off so well for the Scoobies and their new guest. On their way to the club, they were attacked by four vampires when they were passing by the park. While Buffy fought them, Willow and Xander attempted to make a run for it to get Kat out of the way, but the vampires rounded on them, growling in their yellow-eyed game face.

"They're vampires," Kat stated, and looked at Willow for confirmation. The demons glared their teeth at them.

"Yeah, vampires," Willow said, nodding. It was a bit too late to hide it anymore. Then Buffy did with the slaying, and the four vampires disappeared one by one into piles of dust.

"And Buffy is the Vampire Slayer," Xander explained as Buffy dusted off her new outfit, muttering threats to all soulless vampires.

The three of them looked to Kat for her reaction. The girl, for her part, still seemed to be processing what had just happened. Finally, things seemed to click and her eyes went wide with realization. "They're vampires? For real?"

"Yup," Buffy sighed, "They're real. All the creepy crawly things, monsters underneath your bed—all real."

"Oh," was Kat's response, "Weird. Shocking really, but it makes sense."

"It does?"

"Stuff I've been reading about in Sunnydale, like weird deaths and stuff," Kat replied, "And history of occult activity. Kind of cool."

Buffy made a face. "Not exactly, but hey, you're not freaking out too much so I'm all good."

"Yeah Kat," agreed Willow, "You were as cool as a cucumber."

"Well, I suppose I feel safe around a Slayer," Kat beamed at Buffy, "I think I'll start freaking out when everything have sunk in though. You were impressive, Buffy, with the kung-fu and that strength! You have superpowers or something?"

Buffy smiled, liking the praise. "Yeah kind of, one of the perks I suppose."t

"Very cool perk."

* * *

The DeSoto rattled gently on the long, empty stretch of California highway. Spike, in his bleached hair glory, drove patiently in the silence, wanting to put of some tunes, but afraid to wake his beloved passenger in the seat next to him.

Drusilla let out a hoarse moan as the universe pushed itself into her mind. "Spike," she whimpered, turning to him, "It breaks, Spike, it hurts."

"I know, luv," he sighed, looking sadly at the crumpled state of his sire, "When we get to the hellmouth, we'll get you strong again."

Drusilla shook her head like a child. "No. Things are wrong Spike. All wrong. Her hands have broken them, into pieces she eats and spits out and rearranges them like she wants. She wants to save us all. The stars, they are nervous and the pixies are anxious. They are afraid of her, and her, and what she can do. She's two at once, and she breaks all rules."

"Who, pet?"

"Slayer and her Patron."

"The Slayer…" Spike repeated, a smile creeping across his face, "Yes, there is a Slayer at the hellmouth. Is that just great, ducks? You can get stronger on Slayer blood, and you'll be my Dark Princess in all your black glory once more."

Drusilla pouted and looked at Spike. "She'll swallow you too."

Spike frowned. "Swallow me?"

"Yes, my sweet. You'll give yourself."

"No I bloody well won't!" Spike barked angrily, making Drusilla whimper. "Sorry, luv, but nothing can take me away from you."

"But you've already have…" Drusilla mused softly, "Things go loop-di-loop, break and form, loop and tangled. All tangled. Because of the Gods have come out to play."

"Look Dru, why don't you get some kip, pet? We'll be there in a day or so."

"No, can't sleep. The fragments cut into my mind. The Keeper and her Slayer eats them."

"Dru…" repeated Spike patiently, "Sleep, pet. I'll get us a nice, fresh girl to eat and you'll feel better."

"Promise?"

"Promise."

Drusilla looked out to the road. "Gods and Goddesses, all in a row," she whispered in a sing-song voice, "Glorious, it comes, and fall as they go. She walks in light, and she walks in tow. _She_ will come through, and eat us all."

Spike glanced at Drusilla, recognizing that she was seeing something. "Nice lil' rhyme, love. Who'll eat us?"

"Not us, Spike, not us. She can't eat us. Not if there's no light."

"Who can't eat us, then?"

"The Keeper and her Charge, the Slayer and her Love, with Little Miss Muffet, will swallow us whole."

"I see," Spike muttered, frowning, "Slayer and her Love? Well then, we're gonna have to eat this slayer first, right, ducks?"

Drusilla smiled, her eyes dazed and dreamy. "Oh the headiness of the divine blood; to taste the universe…"

* * *

**Next time**

_Three: School Hard I_

Buffy asks Angel about the nature of vampires while Spike rolls into town. They meet on the night of the Parent Teacher meeting, but something about Spike distracts Buffy.


End file.
